


Everywhere at the End of Time

by maidswaltz



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cancer, Chemotherapy, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Frontotemporal Dementia, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito Needs a Hug, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Procedures, canon divergent but only slightly, i cant write hajime to save my life i apologize, its my vent fic and i get to write hajime how i fucking want, like only breifly in the fourth chapter but be safe!!, like. really OOC IUABDSOUJAS, no one on this site knows how to write a hospital, ooc Hinata Hajime, the author seems to know a little too much about hospitals and they do hope that it worries you, think canon but a bit to the left
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidswaltz/pseuds/maidswaltz
Summary: [Rated Mature for graphic description of hospitals, cancer, death, mentions of murder possibly, i mean this is danganronpa].Nagito Komaeda has known he was going to die young since he was born. It was a truth he had lived with, and believed wholeheartedly. When the day came that he got his terminal diagnosis, he was in no way surprised. He'd miss everyone, but that was just an afterthought. This was his problem, and he was destined to deal with it. Alone.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Koizumi Mahiru/Pekoyama Peko, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	1. Its Just a Burning Memory

**Author's Note:**

> hi no one on this fucking site knows how to write hospitals right so i guess i have to do it myself now. poggers. welcome to my frenzied impulse fanfic! this is really really venty so please proceed with caution.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beggining of the end. He's beggining to wither away, but he refuses to admit it. To anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii just a fair warning idk if it counts but komaeda is shirtless for a small chunk of this because he is getting The Poke (tm) so if that counts as partial nudity and i should tag that PLEASE let me know and ill edit that in.  
> if nagito seems mischaracterized its because none of y'all know how to write traumatized teenagers. FFS he's not insane  
> .  
> divergent from canon in that iz//ru never existed, it was just the junko AI

The day was new, the sun resting in the sky, sunlight washing over the ruins and remains of the outskirts. He was still sleeping, a soft blue comforter laid calmly across him. His days were getting shorter, sleeping in longer than he knew was normal for him. People asked, and he just brushed it off. He knew full well there was a reason for this, but he wanted to spare worry from his friends.

He was dying, and he knew it. The harsh thoughts bothered him, but he'd never admit it- Hell, he hadn't even told his friends about his diagnosis yet. But today, with its harsh sun and its heavy, fogged up air, was yet another day he would be forced to dwell on it. A soft buzz from his phone, and a rising from bed was an easy alert to what was to happen next. 

The room he was in was painted a harsh white, with sparse decorations scattered across the wall. the room was cold, figuratively and quite literally. He never bothered to turn on the AC, “ _Not that he deserved it anyways”,_ his brain spat at him. He waved away the thought, used to the notion by now. Ever since the killing game, he had started to even _believe_ it. He decided to move on however, continuing with his morning motions. Clothes were tumbling out of his dresser, inviting him over to change. He was still in his clothes from the day before, a soft white t-shirt and his trademark jacket. Even on the hottest days of summer, he refused to go without it.

It was a quick change, as he threw on the loosest shirt in the pile. He flew down the stairs, sidestepping into the kitchen to slap lidocaine and some saran wrap on his port-o-cath, feeling around for the small objects characteristic resistance was uncomfortable, but unfortunately necessary. The day was still anew, the soft light illuminating his sad figure as he made his way to the door. He had a small car outside, its silver paint gleaming in the morning sun. He got in, keys jangling as the engine began to roar.

The road to the hospital was slow and sweet, and he took his time to take in the scenery. Grass was starting to sprout from the fallen buildings, and the survivors of the end of the world were starting to rebuild. He would be helping out his peers, but he genuinely didn't have the strength anymore. With the prosthetic, _and_ his recent diagnosis, there was no way in hell.

The hospital was approaching now, its tall, imposing walls sending shivers down the boy's spine. As he pulled in, he took a minute to think. "I _t's just a routine chemo session. You've done these almost 15 times now, what the fuck is worrying you now? Are you worried about trash like you dying? Just get it over with. Get it over with and go back to the people that you care about, and let them believe you're ok,_

_You're just fine, and they'll believe that till the end."_

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car, passing it onto the valet. They knew him by now, as not many people were left in the outskirts to remember. As he began to step towards the hospital, the scenery confused him, if just a little bit. People from all walks of life were beside him, laughing, _smiling,_ as they walked. How anyone could feel happy, have fun in this positively _hopeless_ place,astounded him. Everyone could make a happy memory out of a horrific time except for him, no. he saw the situation as what it really was. _His doom._

As he entered, his expression changed, his fake smile fell, and his eyebrows scrunched as he glanced around. He could have sworn it looked different the last time he entered, that the shades were a different shade of yellow, that the decorations were a different species of fish. The memory he had of the place, even of his last chemo session was starting to fade away. It was there, but the paths were detaching from what was left of his brain.

_"Fuck, is it really that far along already? So far that I'm already losing these memories that seem so everyday, so normal to recall?_ " He thought, his brain going wild as he started his slow shamble towards the elevator. The elevator practically engulfed him, the walls swallowing his small, frail frame. He was slowly brought up to the 10th floor. A baby could be heard wailing as he stepped out and began his trek down the hallway, the morning sun illuminating him from the hallway-long window. His footsteps were loud, filling his thoughts with white noise. 

_Diagnosis Lymphoma Cancer Terminal Footsteps Tap-Tap-Tap Frontotemporal Memory Loss Chemotherapy Oncology Tap-Tap-Tap Malignant Death Hospital Doctor Tap-Tap-Tap_

The sound, the sheer noise and _distress_ that came with these thoughts was enough to make him start sweating a bit, fidgeting with a little stim toy he had resting in his pocket. He didn't want to know about all of this, he didn't want anyone else to know about it, and he sure as hell didn't want to dwell on it. 

He was at the door now, a small golden plaque resting on the door simply reading, **_"Oncology Ward and Infusions."_ ** He pushed it open, muscle memory being the only force moving him at this point while he drifted towards the check in counter. 

The lady sitting at the desk perked her head up, pulling up a new window on her computer. "Hello there! Can I get a surname, and a time for your appointment?"

He finally snapped out of his anxiety induced stupor, quickly responding, "Oh! Of course, my last name is Komaeda, and my infusion is scheduled for 11 AM."

She smiled, tapping something away at her computer and waving him towards the waiting room. He was early, as per usual, as the hands on the clock read 10:30 AM. He would be here for a while though, as just ordering the chemo to his infusion room was known to take hours. Come in at 11 AM, and he could be leaving anywhere from 2 to 5. He slowly sat on one of the chairs, taking note of the distance from other people. Of course, he wouldn't want his own misfortune of coming down with an ailment to affect the other, more vulnerable patients here.

A mask sat calmly across his face, the pale yellow mirroring the walls he sat against. His hair was calmly framing his face, the fact that it wasn't a tangled rats nest was a miracle in itself. He was lost in thought, the thoughts from earlier melting together in his brain. He was interrupted by a soft voice calling his name, letting the sound resound across the room as he shot up his hand, walking with the nurse as she directed him to a scale.

He slid up against the wall, pushing his back up as high as he could. A piece of plastic was brought down above his head, the nurse noting the height and weight on her clipboard. The pair silently walked to an infusion room, and he sat on the cold bed provided. She nodded, and dashed off to bring in the next patient. He noted his surroundings, a heated blanket folded for him at the end of the bed, and a TV resting peacefully on an arm that could stretch right down to his face. A soft draft was blowing through the room, rustling the fake plants on the assorted shelves. The walls were a calm terracotta red, with paintings of fish and plants dotted across.

Another nurse came in briefly to take vitals, slipping a blood pressure cuff around his arm and sticking a thermometer in his mouth. His arm constricted, the thermometer popping right back out of his mouth, he sighed. Another day, another visit to this awful, _hopeless_ place that people go to die. He was still in the oncology ward for now, but he would be in hospice before anyone could blink an eye. The lymphoma was progressing faster than anyone had expected, even for a stage three cancer it was going fast. _Too fast._ His stupid talent, a badge stating all of his trauma to the world, would be his downfall. What was supposed to bring him so much joy, fulfillment, and hope for the future, really would just end up bringing his untimely demise.

Heavy thoughts were pushed away, all higher thinking, as a cart could be heart clunking down the hall. A knock could be heard, and he softly agreed to let them in. There was a small team of people, as he was known to be a bit _pushy_ when it came to the butterfly needles. 5ml a second, and he would be done with chemo in only about half an hour. It was just getting the needle in that was the hardest part. Even if it made him seem weak, he fucking _hated_ needles. 

"Alright, this should be pretty quick today. Just slip off your shirt, and I'll clean up the injection site," the nurse said, a calm tone in her voice as she gestured upwards. Nagito quickly slipped the shirt off, still thankful for how stretchy it was. On his first day he had worn something tighter, and it's enough to say that it did _not_ go well, especially with a fresh incision.

The nurse quickly pulled off the saran wrap covering the lidocaine, wiping off the lotion with a tissue. Nagito shuddered, the numb feeling something he would have to grow used to as he continued. A small cleaning wand was pulled out, the cold, alcohol covered sponge gliding across the thin skin atop Nagito's port. He shut his eyes tight, letting his face show visible pain as the nurse put together the needle.

"One... Two... _Three!"_ The nurse said, on the last count slipping the needle in. There was a pinch, but not enough to elicit too much of a reaction. The nurse secured the needle, making sure it wouldn't fall out. He wouldn't be moving his right arm for a while, that was certain. The nurse smiled, hooking the small tube hanging off to a vial. She drew a couple vials of blood, making small talk with him as she drew, the crimson splashing as she set them to the side. She strung the tube up onto an IV stand that was drawn into the room just a moment ago, hooking it onto a bag full of a pale green liquid. He shuddered as it began coursing through his veins, still not used to the chill that came with it and the horrid taste it left in his mouth. 

The doctors left soon, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Or so he believed, his pondering interrupted by a soft ping from his phone.

**555-867-8665:** hey ya dope, how r u doing today? you better have finally put my number into your phone >:[

He smiled, happy for any sign that someone cared right now.

**Nagito:** to be completely honest with you hajime, not good. when i get out of this appointment we should talk, like in person. are you available at three to meet at the park by your house?

Beeping continued from the IV stand, the other boy's typing bubble staying up for a little _too_ long for Nagito's taste.

**555-867-8665:** holy shit babe is everything ok??? im totally available then, what kind of appointment could be taking that fucking long? god you better tell me when i get there dude, you need to stop being so elusive about what's going on with your health. we're all here for you.

He smiled, liking the message and setting his phone down. The taste was still in his mouth, but it was starting to go away, settling into a hint of subtlety. Machines beeped all around him, filling his senses with the white noise he needed to stop focusing on his pain.

_There was so much pain._

And as the clock struck one, the nurse knocked on the door again.

"Hey, just checking if it's still ok to come in," She said, opening the door and swishing open the curtains as Nagito mumbled affirmation. She came in slowly, a piece of wrapped gauze in hand to take out the needle the boy had nearly forgotten about. Resting a hand on his shoulder, the plastic encasing the needle flew off, and it came off quickly and easily. Gauze now rested on his shoulder, covered by a little pink band-aid. Discharge papers were firmly placed in his hand, and he was free to go.

He was soon at his car again, the valet taking its sweet time as per usual. As he settled into the car, setting it into gear, the clock read 1:45. He would most definitely be early, the tree covered mountain drive normally only taking him half an hour to get him to the local park. He was slowly coming down the hill now, cherry trees shedding right outside of his car window. Thoughts were whirling throughout his mind, clogging any productive ideas he had. The extra time he would have alone at the park would be so valuable, giving him time to clear up what he wanted to say, what he would even _do_ when he saw Hajime. 

The calm scenery clashed with his discordant thoughts, all coherency faded away as he began to panic. He was only able to spit out one coherent thought, simply, _"What the hell am I going to tell my boyfriend of less than a month. That I'm fucking dying?"_

As he finally rolled up to the park, his racing mind was beginning to slow. He had an idea of what to say, as bare bones as it may be, it was enough to calm him down before the big event. His car came rolling to a stop, sitting peacefully next to the park in direct contrast to it's driver. The soup of his mind was slowing, starting to form coherency as he stepped out. He moved towards, and settled on a bench, people beginning to walk past him in ignorant bliss. Laughing, talking, smiling, all unaware of the beacon of bad luck standing right in front of them. 

A figure was dashing towards him, recognizable by Nagito anywhere. It was Hajime, looking around frantically to find the other boy. Nagito pulled a bittersweet smile on, standing up and flashing a wave at Hajime. His face lit up, speeding up his walk towards him while Nagito sat back down, the warm wood welcoming his cold figure.

Hajime caught up, panting a little bit while he spat out, "Nagito, what was going on earlier. You can't just drop such a concerning message and then dip, please, just tell me. What's been happening?"

It was time.

***

Hajime had to step back for a second. There was so much to take in, and so little context. He had _just_ started getting closer to Nagito, and then this happens? What could have gone wrong along the way, what could he have done to prevent this. His closest friend, his boyfriend, the one who he could confide in about every little thing, that had started to help him feel less insecure, was dying of a terminal illness.

His mind was reeling. He was still standing in the path, a sitting duck with a flow of people starting to slow around him. Stepping off to the side, he nearly fell as he dropped onto the grass. What the fuck just happened? Nagito was _dying,_ and hadn't even told him. What kind of personal failure is that? Nagito came down to console Hajime, putting his hand on his shoulder when Hajime pulled him into a warm embrace. 

Teary eyed, he whispered into the other boy's ear, "Why didn't you tell me, idiot? I could've helped you somehow, I could've _done something._ I know you feel like opening up is some kind of failure, and that you need to keep it in, but _please, please tell me about serious stuff like that._ You can trust me, and genuinely I only want to help you. It's going to be ok, I'm here now." 

Nagito buried his face into Hajime's shoulder, tears falling like waterfalls as he fell into the hug. Hajime ran a hand through his hair, trying to comfort him. This must have been so painful, and he was probably in so much pain. Nagito was suffering in silence for _months,_ and hadn't even told him. He felt like he had failed the other boy, pulling him closer as he worried. He couldn't dwell on that now, as he had to be here in the present. The past didn't matter now, what mattered was making sure that Nagito was ok.

Hajime beckoned towards the car, eliciting a small nod from Nagito. Hajime slipped his arm around Nagito, beginning to help him up. Nagito was leaning his head into Hajime's shoulder still, sniffles softly escaping his breath as they continued back. Doors shut, keys placed in their slot, the engine began to roar as Hajime began to follow the familiar path to Nagito's apartment. He glanced over at Nagito, his form huddled as he babied his right shoulder. Hajime noticed something, electing to ignore the big red scar Nagito was desperately trying to hide.

But he just couldn't, quickly spitting out, "Hey Nagito, it's ok if you don't want to answer but I'm just curious. What's that scar on your right shoulder for? Like, where'd you get it? I haven't noticed it, and it looks concerning, maybe it's infected, or just new?"

Nagito's face managed to go paler than normal, the blush draining from his face as he pulled his jacket back over the now obvious scar. He let out a nervous laugh, a hand going behind his head.

"Oh, it's nothing. If you really want to know, it's an incision. Y'know, from when people get surgery? That. They had to put in this peculiar medical device for my treatment, and it required a quick cut to put it in, nothing to worry about." Nagito nervously replied, playing it down and trying to make everything seem better than it really was, but Hajime could instantly see through his facade.

"You know that's something to worry about, you need to stop lying about how you're feeling. It's serious, and you can be such a stupid fuck when it comes to your own health. You _deserve_ people to care about you, and you deserve the help they provide. It's gonna be ok, you just need the help. You're important, and your feelings are too. Just, please. Even if just for me. Put a _little_ effort into communicating. It'll make things easier for you, and everyone else around you."

"I know it's just that," Nagito stopped for a second, losing himself in thought, and finally finishing the thought, "It's so hard to feel like other people will care about me when I don't even care about myself. There's so much that's happened to me and I don't even stop to think, it's just normal to me. I pass through life, these tragedies passing me as easily as that, and now that I start to think about it it _scares me._ What am I going to do? Just... die?"

Hajime could feel a pang in his heart, slowing down the closer they got to the now weeping boy's apartment. He was barely an adult, and he'd already stared down the face of hell. Pulling into the driveway, Hajime softly placed his hand on Nagito's back.

"You're going to be ok, I can just feel it. We're going to make it out of this together, and this'll all just be a bittersweet memory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii sorry that there's alot of fucking random breaks to do nagito's thoughts i just think that no one ever really adresses the internal mechanisms of his mind and that he's neat. also before you shoot me for this not looking like a hospital u see on TV or something i am a Hospital Veteran i Know This Shit Ok 
> 
> Source: Just Trust Me Bro
> 
> oh oh also!! if you dont know what a port is basically they're these little circular plastic reservoirs (plastic is a more recent development, they used to be literal metal implants) that slowly send the chemo directly into your.... jugular vein i think it was? yeah basically if u aren't super squeamish google it!! also butterfly needles can be googled as well, i did NOT feel like googling a pic to refrence for this because they make even ME squeamish lmfao
> 
> one last thing i was finally listening to the undertale 5th anniversary concert while writing this and???? WAAAAAAA SO GOOD IM CRYGINGIGNGIN


	2. Childishly Fresh Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The eye of the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THAT THIS IS SO SHORT IVE BEEN IN A WRITERS BLOCK FOR MONTHS UHHHHH NEXT CHAPTER IS GONNA BE UR REGULARLY SCHEDULED ANGST I JUST NEEDED TO UPDATE HSAJKDAMXCJKBHN  
> anyways if you've ever read my sayabuki fic on wattpad you'd know that i basically use putting characters together in the same house like a staple ingredient if they dont live together even if its Really Early In Their Relationship is it really a maidswaltz fic

Soft, warm colors painted the evening. The inside of Nagito's apartment was a bit of a mess, but it was an organized clutter. Hajime and Nagito were planted on the couch, blankets and pillows covering them as they dozed off. It was an eventful evening, and Hajime still held some regrets and heavy feelings about the whole ordeal, but that could wait till morning. Right now, their safety and comfort came first, a priority that Hajime had to remind Nagito of constantly. _You need to take care of yourself, do something for yourself and not someone else for once,_ he would say, feeling like a broken record as Nagito kept on being his eccentric, self destructive self. Hajime had an arm around Nagito's shoulder, running his hand through his hair.

 _It's going to be alright, it's ok. You can get through this. We both_ _can._

Nagito was asleep now, soft snores escaping his mouth as he snuggled in closer. Hajime let out a sigh, letting his mind drift back to earlier. He was, undeniably, a little ticked with Nagito. He had this life threatening disease, with the potential to take his life away at any moment, and he just... left it alone. Didn't tell anyone, not even the person he was closest to. Then again, as he thought more about it, it made a bit of sense in a twisted way.

Nagito was never the kind of guy to open up about things that hurt him, or made him happy, or really anything. The closer he was to you, the more he'd try to push you away. He was always so sure that his luck was just a burden on everyone, and that by getting close to anyone, it would somehow harm them. It was an extremely unrealistic and warped view, but Nagito had never been a realistic person. He was larger than life, a character you would expect to see in a video game, always going off on some kind of rant, always living on the edge. Hajime suddenly snapped back into reality, realizing he had gone of onto a tangent. He lay his head next to Nagito's, whispering a goodnight and falling into a restless sleep.

\---

Nagito was stirring now, his legs twitching as his hands began to squeeze whatever he had latched onto in the night. He had a habit of reaching out to the closest object, tending to wake up with a pillow or stuffed animal suffocating in his arms. This time, the poor receiver of this treatment was Hajime, who held him back of his own free will. Nagito realized this, his face lighting up a little bit as he snuggled in closer. They had all the time in the world, after all, and he deserved a bit of self indulgence right now. It was a tender gesture, the two half awake boys staying still, the morning sun coming over the horizon.

The peace was suddenly broken as Hajime let out a soft sob, burying his face into Nagito's hair. Nagito pulled him in closer, patting him on the back as he broke down.

"I just... I just don't want to lose you. We finally got close, I'm starting to actually _understand_ you, and then life starts to tear you away." He took a pause, letting out another heavy sob as he continued, "It's not fair, it's not fair at all. Especially not to you, god, you're going to _die_ Nagito. I don't know what to do right now other than be here with you, I don't know if I even can do anything else. I just want everything to be fine, for everything to be soft and sweet and painless, but life isn't like that."

Nagito was tearing up too, but he'd never let the other boy see that. He didn't want to die, even if he knew it was going to happen since he was young. He didn't know what to do either, he was barely an adult at this point. He'd known he was going to die, and what that actually entailed, ever since he saw his parents die in that fatal plane accident. Even with that though, he never really wanted to accept it. It was something that happened when you were old, it was something that didn't happen to 20 year olds in the middle of Japan. Even watching his friends die, even killing himself in-game, never really convinced him that death was real. Now it was staring him directly in the face, and he had no idea what the hell to do.

"I don't want to die Hajime. Oh god, Hajime, I don't want to die," he cried, burying his face into Hajime's shoulder, the two of them crying together. It hadn't really set in yesterday, the true weight of the situation, the shock still hanging in their minds. Now, they both had come to some kind of terms with it. Nagito was dying, hell, who knew if he'd even survive the year. It was a painful realization, one that hurt them, but one that needed to be made. 

Lying to themselves was just going to make it hurt more when the inevitable occurred.

Hajime sniffled a bit, sitting up on the couch and stretching. He smiled a bit, playfully teasing Nagito as per usual.

"Man, which one of us had the bright idea to sleep on a couch for a full night? My back feels wonderful, never better, a once in a lifetime fix, just sleep on Ko's bed," he giggled, scuffing up Nagito's hair as he walked off to the kitchen.

Nagito sighed, his face a bittersweet melody of emotions. He threw his back against the couch again, pulling the pile of blankets over him and sinking in more. He could barely find the energy to stand up recently, and he was really hoping that it was just the depression acting up. Hajime came back into the room, laughing a bit at the bundle of blankets staring up at him. He set two cups down on the coffee table, one with a lemon teabag and another with mint. He put a teaspoon of sugar in both, a teapot tipping and pouring boiling water into the water. He watched the sugar dissolve, and transferred the pot back into the kitchen. 

He sat back down, stealing one of Nagito's blankets, much to his dismay. Hajime planted a soft kiss on Nagito's forehead, and took a long sip of his tea. Nagito flushed a bit, his next words stuttered a bit. They had been together for almost a month now, but every romantic gesture still melted the two of them. It was bliss, a calm state where they felt safe. Soft, comforting, right. It couldn't last for long, the two of them knew this already, but they decided silently it was best to ignore that, to enjoy the good times while they lasted.

Nagito perked his head up, quickly throwing out, "Why don't you stay at my house while this is all happening? I know you don't really have a place of your own right now, and It would help me feel a bit less alone and-" He was cut off almost instantly, Hajime practically throwing himself at Nagito and wrapping his arms around him.

Nagito giggled, the other boy starting to cry again. "I'll take that as a yes, am I right?"

Hajime nodded, pulling himself away from Nagito and absentmindedly brushing off his shirt. He wiped the tears from his eyes, smiling and quickly responding, "Yes, of course I would love that you idiot, I don't want to be anywhere else right now, ok? I'm here, and I'm gonna stay here till the bitter end."

A tear formed in Nagito's eye, his face lighting up as he started to flap his hand and shake his head. Hajime was startled for a moment, then began laughing as they lay back for a moment, letting the happy moment encompass them. It was bliss, an almost childlike moment as they laughed about everything and nothing. Both of their eyes were bright, a spark there that hadn't been seen since they were both young and unburdened. It was foolish, the happiness they felt then, but that didn't matter anymore, as the giggles and tears and all the sweet nothings blended together.

\---

The evening was a welcome change, the crisp wind dancing between the two as they began closing up for the night. The apartment was a mess, but they didn't mind. At this point, all that mattered was moving from day to day.

_It'll be ok. It'll be ok. We'll be ok. We can get through this. Keep saying it. It'll be true. I know it._

Nagito was sitting in his room now, taking a minute to look around. It was bland and under decorated, but up until now he had never really cared. It had been home, a place to sleep. That's all he needed. All he deserved. He had never really felt like he deserved more than the bare minimum. He had the bare necessities covered constantly, but for someone with the amassed wealth he had, it was practically nothing. He just wanted to go about his day to day life, to have a normal life, a long one with people who loved him. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less. Just... a life of his own.

The creaking of the hallway alerted him, breaking him out of thought. He was a spacey type for sure, tending to recluse into his own thoughts every time he was left to his own devices. However, now Hajime was back in his room, sitting down on the bed next to him. Not much was left to say now. Anything either of them could think of went unsaid, the air hanging heavy above their heads as they laid back on top of the covers.

Nothing needed to be said anyways, really, their actions speaking louder than their words. The sun was beginning to set, the colors contrasting the sterile room and painting a portrait of spring on the walls. Hajime pulled Nagito closer to him, burying his head into his shoulder before eliciting a yelp from the other boy.

Nagito quickly began speaking, his words going about 100mph. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. My incision is there, and it still hurts because its only been a month and-"

He was cut off once again by laughter, Hajime having pulled away and sitting up against the headboard by now. As Nagito began to bring himself back up, Hajime responded, "Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault you bastard, if anything I should have been more mindful." He cupped Nagito's face in his hands, continuing on in a more serious tone, "This isn't your fault, ok? You have nothing to apologize for." 

Nagito giggled a bit, sighing and wiping away an errant tear. There was so much to think about, so much to do, so much to say, but all it really came to was a short phrase, one he hadn't dared to say yet. One he might never get the privilage to say again.

"I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for abandoning this fic what :flushed emojey: i stg school and kin mems stop kicking my ass challenge N E WAYS SORRY HAJIME IS SO WEIRDLY CHARACTERIZED I HAVE NO CLUE HOW THIS MAN FUCKING WORKS. WHAT GOES ON INSIDE OF UR FUNKY LITTLE BRAIN MY GUY. also sorry if the quality went down im currentluy having a MOMENT jsut wanna write them being happy ok back to hibernation see yall in a couple more months >:]] hekpl girl i am under the water  
> IM GONNA FUCKING REGRET UPDATING THIS WITH JUST THIS BUT WHO CARES HI GUYS
> 
> on a more serious note: i haven't abandoned this fic for good, if i ever truly stop i will NOTE IT IN THE TITLE!! it just takes me months to write chapters between school, stress, and just general "oh god i physically can't write today," so it might take a while im sorry hasdnhbsjcxnm,, but!! i assure you the next chapter will be out before the end of the year! i have no friends so i have a lot of time now :coolguy420:  
> edit: NO ONE TOLD ME IT HAD ONLY BEEN A MONTH SINCE I UPDATED I HAD JUST BEEN WORKING ON THE FIRST CHAPTER FOR LIKE 3 MONTHS SO I HAD THOUGHT IT HAD BEEN LONGER. OH FUCK ME LSANFBHCXLKL


	3. Quiet Internal Rebellions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love isn't an emotion.  
> It's a conscious choice you make, every day, to stay with that person.  
> Through thick and thin, till your final moment's together.  
> That's why...  
> I love you.  
> With all my heart, I choose to love you, up to your final moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way!! ive given up on trying to make my writing 'good' per se, i just write for myself. im in a really, really bad place right now, so that'll probably be a good step forward. sorry if things feel a little repetitive rn, im just trying to fill in all the gaps before i start getting towards the rising action. hope yall enjoy!  
> i also want to note that in this AU, its like canon but slightly to the left. hajime never completed those last two free time events for whatever reason, and never learned of nagito's illness, hence the first chapter ~big reveal~ haha. he doesn't really know any of this, all he really knows is that he had a 'rough life,' i really should have clarified this earlier BWIHJAKDSNA  
> fun fact nagito is sosoSO much more complex than a lot of people tend to dig to see. did you guys know that he actually hates talent? YEAH go watch the 2.5 OVA im holding you at gunpoint

Hajime was slightly startled, taken aback by the sudden affection from the other boy. He wasn't sure what to say, or do, his mind shutting down a little bit as he sat. They were barely a month into their relationship, but he could tell Nagito _really_ meant it. His stupor was broken, however, by the mumbling of the other boy.

"Oh god Hajime, I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say and I just said what came to mind, trash like me needs to think before they speak-"

He was sweating, fiddling with his shirt and nervously laughing as he continued on a self-deprecating rant. His arms were wrapped around himself, his entire body practically folding in on itself as he fell deeper and deeper into a confused haze.

"Hey. Snap out of it."

Nagito shot his head up, his arms still wrapped tightly around himself, as if it were an instinct. He slowly brought his hands to his side, still sweating profusely with a tear forming in his eye.

"I love you too, Nagito. You don't need to apologize, and you're definitely not trash. It hurts so much to see you like this, and I know you can't help it but... please. Remember, I'm here for you. And I love you. Ok?"

He smiled a bit, hesitantly laying back against the pillow. Hajime followed suit, taking in the moment. It was quiet, the sun having just set, the two of them the only thing in the world that mattered. It was a pain in the ass some days, and Nagito got on his nerves often, but that was ok. They were both flawed, and they were working through their issues bit by bit.

Together.

Hajime could feel Nagito pressing up against his back, his arms coming around his waist. A shaky, steady motion, almost instantly taken back before Hajime placed his hands over Nagito's. And as the two drifted off, it was like all was right with the world.

\---

The morning sun burned through the window, forcing Hajime awake. There was a distinct lack of presence in the room, and as he flipped over in bed, his suspicions were confirmed. Nagito Komaeda was nowhere to be seen. Hajime snapped up, still only half awake as he swung his head around. Only one thought was clear in his mind at the moment, as crude as it may be: _Where the hell is he?_

He began standing up, his back aching like hell while he pushed off the comforter. He stood up, wobbling a bit on his feet as he begun a slow walk towards the living room. Something caught his eye on the wall first, however, and he took a moment to examine it. 

**April - 20XX**

It was a calendar, with marks on every other day. Next to each bold red cross was a note, either being vague encouragement, or a note reminding him of etcetera medical terms that Hajime couldn't even _begin_ to understand. He had a hunch about what was happening now, but he didn't want to get too cocky. Who knows what the other boy could be doing.

He began walking again, groggily swinging through the halls as he poked his head in and out of room after room. He hit the living room eventually, the clock on the wall clearly reading 7:23. Nagito was sitting on the couch, his shirt pulled off halfway and resting on his shoulder. He had a tube of medication in front of him, as well as a roll of saran wrap and a pair of scissors. This was the first time Hajime had seen Nagito exposed like this, never even with his jacket off.

There was something a bit different about the boy, almost carefree. He was humming to himself, a tune Hajime could only vaguely recall. It was an old song, and if he was correct, by Al Bowlly.

"Heartaches."

He sat back for a moment, letting his eyes wander. The way the light from the arched window fell on Nagito was almost magical, the black couch glistening in stark contrast to his sickly skin. He practically sparkled in the morning sun, slowly applying the cream that had been sitting in front of the boy and placing a piece of saran wrap over his shoulder. It was... serene. 

He drank in the moment like it was water, leaning against the hallway's wall as he watched Nagito go about this routine like it was nothing. Nagito was sitting back now, taking in the morning sun. He was leaning against the couches arm, his face propped on his prosthetic. God, was it easy to forget he had it some days. Hajime sat back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting in the hall. Nagito practically jumped at the small sound produced, whipping his head around. As he saw that it was just Hajime, he let out a relieved sigh, cursing under his breath as he let his posture slump back again. 

"You scared me, Jesus Christ."

Hajime gave a quizzical look, quickly responding, "That was obvious. What the hell are you doing up?"

Nagito leaned back a bit more, letting his face contort into a more concerned expression. He took a minute, trying to choose his words carefully, as if he was walking on eggshells around himself. 

Slowly but surely, he began to speak. "It's nothing much, really, I just like to be... extra prepared. It's easier on my nerves if I can be at least reasonably sure that everything will run smoothly. My luck can't have too much affect on a chemical reaction, especially if I take a couple extra hours to let it rest."

Hajime gave the other an odd look, one eyebrow raised as he said, "You know, that creates more questions than it answers. Just be straightforward, please. I can't read your mind, as crazy as it may seem."

"I guess if I have to put it bluntly, I will. I have to get chemo every other day, and to make extra sure this stupid medicine works, I have to come down here at ungodly hours of the morning. There isn't much to it really, I just have to do this until... well, you can fill in the blank there."

Hajime wasn't too taken aback by the chemo part, but more the emptiness and impersonality of the statement. It was as if Nagito had stopped being, well, Nagito, even if just for a moment. Like a computer software spitting out an automated message. However, he simply nodded in response, moving towards the other boy and sitting next to him. 

"Can I come with you? To your chemo session, I mean. You may be a demented bastard, but I want to be there for you."

"I see what you did there. I want you to be there, but what's the catch?" Nagito asked, letting out a raspy laugh.

Hajime smiled, having not originally wanted to ask anything of him at all.

"You have to come with me, Mahiru, Ibuki, and Peko to the park today. You've been stuck inside for too long, there's no way in hell that can be healthy for you. Plus, as crazy as it may seem to you, they're starting to get worried about you."

Nagito grinned from ear to ear, giving Hajime a quick hug after pulling his shirt back on. 

"Just one question,

Who's Peko again? The name rings a bell but- there's nothing really there. I'm assuming they're a friend?"

Hajime's heart dropped in his chest, his stomach beginning to churn. 

"Very funny man, now drop it."

"I wish I was joking, Hajime. Can you describe them to me? Maybe that'll bring them back, it seems to work most times."

Hajime sighed, turning his head to the side as he tried to bring up a physical description of the lone swordsman. They had been friends for so long now that he had never thought of having to describe her, and it took him a moment to conjure up a short description.

"She's an average height, and she keeps her longer silver hair in braids. She's a swordswoman, or to be more specific, the Ultimate Swordswoman, and we met at Hope's Peak years back. Her and Fuyuhiko hang around each other a lot, and she's been working a lot of volunteer work recently?"

Leaning back into the couch, Nagito clicked his tongue a few times as he thought.

"Oh, you mean her! I remember her, I just couldn't connect a name to face. It's nothing huge, I'll just note it with my doctor! Please don't worry, this was a one time thing. I hope."

Hajime was still, most definitely, concerned, but he didn't voice it. He just patted him on the shoulder, kissed him on the forehead, and told him he'd be right back. He needed to get dressed, after all, and it seemed like they had a long day ahead of them.

\---

Sunlight washed over the park, the soft lulls of a nearby brook providing soft background noise. Peko and Mahiru were already there, sitting on a bench and feeding the birds as they waited on their three fashionably late friends. The air was soft, a spring twang to it. There was something off in the air, however, like a cloud of dread covering the sky. The two girls were lost in thought, Mahiru beginning to lie her head on Peko's shoulder and grasping her hand. Peko let her stay there, patting her head ever so often as they lie in wait. It was a moment she would treasure forever, even without a photo to commemorate it.

As per usual, the peace didn't last long. The park was relatively quiet, with no one passing by except the occasional goose, so when the sounds of two people crashing through the bushes erupted nearby, Peko could be sure it was Hajime and Nagito.

"Hello there you two. Is everything alright?

Nagito had just come into view, his hair like a homing beacon for anyone that recognized him. He was being pulled along by Hajime, their hands intertwined as he slipped and stumbled over almost every little rock. He giggled, happy to see the two girls.

"Everything's alright! I'm super happy to see you Peko. I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that Ibuki's fashionably late, as per usual, so there's nothing to worry about there."

"Right on the nose. I'm happy to see you two as well, even if I'm not the best at showing it."

She had stood up, laying Mahiru's head down on her bag. She shot the two of them a strained smile, and pat Nagito on the shoulder.

"I am curious about what Hajime said you had to tell us, but I believe that can wait. I can see someone coming over the hill now, and until they have arrived, I think I'll be alright with small talk."

Nagito perked up, letting go of Hajime's hand for a moment to look behind him. It was a small silhouette, one that could still be recognized by its erratic shape and multicolored aura. 

Ibuki.

Nagito yelled out, waving his hands and running towards the figure on the horizon.

She was with the group soon, sighing and panting all the way. She was laughing like a madman, hugging everyone in sight and babbling about everything and nothing.

Ibuki was still giggling, wrapping her arms around Nagito and hoisting him up while saying, "Nagi! Nagi, Nagi, how have you been! Ibuki's missed you soooo so much!"

Nagito pushed her off slightly, a twang in his shoulder showing the wear and tear. He nodded, saying something about how everything's been fine, not to worry too much. All the usual nonsense to accommodate others. It was normal, comforting. People believed him too. It was really a wonder the things a few comforting words could do.

Peko stepped forward, breaking up the big group hug. 

"Mahiru doesn't seem to be waking up anytime soon, shall we go sit?"

Nagito fiddled with his hands a bit, visibly nervous. He had no idea what she had planned, and he knew it wouldn't be anything _bad_ per se, but he couldn't help but worry.

The walk down to the brook was a short but rocky one, the four of them tripping, stumbling, and laughing every step of the way. They were friends, and in that moment, it was all that mattered. They all sat around a picnic bench when they arrived, Hajime and Nagito sitting parallel to Peko and Ibuki. 

Peko bluntly began, trying her best to fashion the words correctly. 

"I guess the best way to put this is... that we're worried about you. We haven't seen you in months, you stopped responding to our texts a month ago, and you refuse to talk to anyone but Hajime. When Hajime said you'd come over to talk today, none of us could refuse. What happened? You've always been isolated, but this is a new extreme, even for you."

Nagito laughed a bit, beginning to sweat as his brain hit a block. He should have known this was coming, and he didn't prepare. To be completely honest, he had been running on autopilot for the past couple of months. He never told anyone about his condition when they were ingame, not even Hajime. He had considered it, but there never seemed to be an opening. His condition had been worsening recently, and that's why he finally agreed to start treatment. Before he entered Hopes Peak, he never really saw a reason to start chemo. What's the use in prolonging a life of suffering, with no one close to him to keep going for?

Then Hajime came along. 

Nagito had never had anyone close to him, that cared about him, since his parents had died over a decade ago. He was just a confused little kid, and everyone had stayed away from him. 'He has some kind of curse, stay away.' That's what they'd always believed. But Hajime didn't care about all of that. He was blunt, and harsh, and sometimes a bit of an ass, that couldn't be denied. But he didn't care about Nagito's luck. No matter how much Nagito tried to push him off for his safety, he persisted. He just wanted to understand Nagito. No one had ever wanted that before. No one ever cared to think twice about him, unless his luck hurt them. Hajime never had that scorn in his eyes that everyone else had. He _chose_ to stay near Nagito, to stick with him through thick and thin, to listen even if it hurt him. 

That's what love is, is it not?

A pat on his shoulder broke Nagito out of thought, the three others staring directly at him. 

"Ah, sorry everyone. I got lost in thought, don't worry."

And he told them. He told them everything. Everything he'd been holding back for 23 years. How his luck affected him, how he was going to die soon, _everything._ And he did it all with a smile. So much bottled up emotions came out, and before he knew it, he was crying. Tears came without him realizing, and he ended up buckling and leaning on Hajime. He never wanted to face what had happened. And having to tell his friends all of it was like being put in front of your worst fear, and told to fight, no matter what. 

Still, he smiled through it all. That's all he could do in these situations, even with tears flowing out the floodgates. Is smile. Everyone always interpreted this as him having no remorse, not feeling any grief even in the worst of situations. They were wrong. It was all he could do to ground himself, convince himself that he was alright, even if he wasn't. Fake it till you make it, per se.

It hurt, but he continued all the same.

Ibuki was the first to say something, as crude as it was.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell us? Ibuki wants to be there for all of her friends, and she just can't do that when you refuse to tell her anything!"

Hajime was next.

"Nagito, I always knew you had a rough childhood, but I never knew it was like that. I understand why you didn't tell me but still, like Ibuki said, I want to be here for you."

Then, Peko.

"I- I never knew. I apologize."

Nagito sighed, a long spindly breath that seemed to wrap around the four of them. He didn't know what to say anymore, his emotional tank at an empty. There was nothing left to say really, except for one word. One he should have said a long time ago.

"Sorry. I'm... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have ghosted you all like that, no matter what I was going through."

Everyone continued to sit in silence after a few nods. Nagito was still crying, but quieter. 

They thought they would have all the time in the world to mend.

\---

The clock struck 2:30, and everyone said a quick goodbye as Nagito dragged Hajime towards the car. It was time, as always, to head to the hospital. The car ride was long and quiet, but in a warm way, one that left the two content. Sometimes, it's better to just be silent, and let the quiet speak for itself. As they pulled into the hospital parking lot, the sun was high in the sky, clouds like tentacles waiting to consume them.

It was a quiet walk through the hospital too, Nagito leading the way as he effortlessly slipped through the confusing mess of hallways. It was like a second home for him, the way to the oncology ward muscle memory after the past few months. It was becoming unfamiliar, distorted, a bit to the left, like a distant memory you have to grasp for. He didn't dare say a word, he just continued through the halls.

"Name, and what time is your appointment?"

"Komaeda, I'm here for a three o'clock in oncology."

"Here's a buzzer, when it goes off go down the hall to the right."

Hajime put on a sticker that simply read "Visitor," and went to sit by Nagito. Nagito was squirming in his seat, fidgeting with his hands and seeming very outwardly uncomfortable. It was a stressful time, the feel of the hospital almost confrontational. The smell of rubbing alcohol hang heavy in the air, pressing down on the backs of the two boys. Hajime grasped Nagito's hand, leaning into him as Nagito pressed himself up against a bookcase. 

"I'm here for you. If you want, you can hold my hand while they put in the IV?"

Nagito nodded, a tear forming as he began to sob once more. He'd been doing this alone for months now, and now he had someone here who wanted, genuinely, to be here for him. It was a welcome change, but he was still getting used to it. 

A hefty half an hour later, a nurse with a rather hefty clipboard came into view.

"Is there a Komaeda here?"

Nagito stood up, pulling Hajime up with him. He dashed over, gave her a nod of acknowledgement, and they traversed into the oncology ward.

"Step up here- no, take off your shoes. Thank you, let me take down your height and weight." 

A piece of plastic on his head, and a velcro around his arm later, his vitals were taken and he was escorted to an infusion room. At the beginning of treatment they would take him into an exam room, but as the chemo regiment became longer and more complex they decided on a more comfortable room. He was now sat on the hospital bed, a heated blanket sitting across his lap. Hajime was adjacent, in a small armchair that the hospital provided for visitors. 

They would be here for a while, as ordering the chemo takes an hour on average and the treatment even longer. The room was quiet, apart from the humming of the assorted medical instruments.

"We... should have brought something to do. What do you even do during these sessions?"

"Nothing."

"...What?"

"Nothing. I don't tend to do anything. I'm simply alone with my thoughts. It's not the best pastime I must say, but it's the only one that I could think of. You can't exactly play cards with one person, unless you count solitaire."

Hajime shouldn't be surprised, this was completely in character for the other boy, but he was nonetheless. He brought the chair over, the wheels screeching across the floor. 

"We could ask a nurse for some cards, and maybe play together? I do know a couple card games, like speed, kings corner, slap jack, the like."

"That would be nice, a nurse should be coming around in about 5 minutes to check in on me, we can ask then. Until then, I-" He paused for a moment, seemingly reconsidering whatever it was he was going to say.

"Go on?"

"I have a- more selfish request. It's nothing, I'll be ok"

"No, really, go on. No matter how selfish it might seem to you, I want to help."

"Alright, only if you insist. Would it be ok if you came and sat with me on the bed while we wait? You'll have to get off when the nurse comes with the chemo but... until then, if you're alright with it. I said it before, but just your presence near me helps calm my nerves, as silly as it sounds."

"Oh my fucking god Nagito, that's not silly or stupid or whatever you want to call it. It's a perfectly reasonable request, you dunce." 

He moved up onto the hospital bed, laying against the wall and laying his head on Nagito's shoulder.

"To tell you a secret, that chair is hell to sit on. I mean, who decided on a leather chair in a hot room?"

Nagito giggled in response, letting out a sigh and leaning into Hajime. He was so, so tired, but having Hajime here was like a weight off his shoulders. He finally had someone to lean on, to stick with,

To love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi if ur saying this thank you for reading, sorry im so shitty about updating regularly JHVSAHASADSABJ adhd has other plans for me. i really dont have much of a plan for this tbh, except for a very rough plot outline and an idea for an explosive ending to say the least. i swear ill finish this eventually, but i work slower than a snail HASBDNCBB


	4. What Does It Matter How My Heart Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be getting better.  
> He's lying, however.
> 
> Things are only getting worse.  
> They were never better. 
> 
> It hurts to lie to the only person that loves you, but it's for his sake.  
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im starting to refine how i characterize nagito through replaying the games a million times, looking at how other people portray him, and using my own knowledge of his own moral systems and im starting to really get a hold on it. hajime however-  
> ALSO LATER ON. HOZIER SONGS AS KOMAHINA RIGHTS. YEAH. totally not dragged from the fact that i constantly hum random hozier songs  
> can you tell i know jack fucking shit about mochi i googled like 7 different questions about it in 5 minutes and google told me there was 'unusual traffic' coming from my internet so it asked me if i was a robot wow gj

The infusion finished, Nagito began to drag Hajime towards the hospital cafeteria, babbling about the salad and how he just _had_ to try the cookies all the way. Hajime was glad he was talkative again, but everything seemed off. There was definitely something Nagito wasn't telling him, and he could only hope it wasn't serious. He sat down with Nagito once arrived, oddly silent.

"Nagito, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

Nagito seemed a bit taken aback, taking his time to reply as he thought.

"What brought this on all of a sudden? Everything's fine, you don't need to worry about trash like me."

"Yes, yes I do. You have two terminal diagnoses and I didn't know until a couple days ago. I know you're trying to spare me from your luck cycle or whatever, but it doesn't work like that. Please, just promise to tell me when things get worse."

Nagito begrudgingly agreed, continuing to look preoccupied as he picked at his salad.

"And... I know it's useless to say at this point, but what is it going to take to convince you that you're _not trash._ Why would I have stayed so long if you were?"

A sharp pause, feeling almost hostile.

"Pity."

Hajime sighed, his head nearly crashing into the table as his ramblings began again. How it was just pity that everyone stayed with scum like him, that Hajime had never _really_ loved him, that he wasn't crazy, he was just getting saner. They had been increasing in number recently, a surefire sign that something was wrong. Before his episode the other night, he had managed to convince himself he was really worthy for two whole months. Baby steps, but they meant so much. And they were going out the fucking window.

"I don't fucking... pity you, Nagito. For fucks sake, I've been friends with you for years, and I've been dating you for half a month now. In no way would I do this out of _pity,_ of all things. I didn't even _know_ about most of your past until earlier today. And you want to tell me that my love for you is out of pity. What a- a horrible way to think. That no one will really love you, even when they're sitting in front of you with their arms open."

Now, a bustling hospital cafeteria was definitely not the place to be having a conversation like this, but neither of the boys seemed to care. They just kept on going in a pointless back and forth, trying to convince the other that they loved them. It was an odd, twisted argument, that drew more than a few odd looks, but it was normal. _Too_ normal. It was like the Neo-World Program all over again. A bittersweet memory that they were still both existing in, breathing through, and living for.

They wouldn't change until they left those existences. And Nagito was on the exact opposite track, slowly deteriorating and finding new reasons to stay stuck in the past. Soon, he'd have nothing but the past. And there was nothing Hajime could tangibly do for him.

He stopped arguing as he realized that. He fell silent, resorting to pick at his salad.

It was Nagito's turn to ask what was wrong, an expression of worry on his face that he hadn't seen in a long time. Breaking that smiley, carefree persona was like breaking reality for him, Hajime knew, even if it was almost for a moment. So he was honest.

"I'm scared. I can't put it any other way, really. I'm scared we'll never grow. I'm scared you'll really die, stuck in the past permanently before your final moments. I'm scared that we'll never stop existing in the past, refusing to look to the future. Even with all that I said at the end, going against the virus... I still feel like we're all trying to pretend we are who we were. When we're not, and we can't ever be those people again, we still exist there. We're just echoes of the past, and it-" Hajime took a shaky breath, continuing to infodump in the middle of a _very_ public place, "It kills me to think that I'll never know who you've come to be before you die. I've said it a million fucking times, but I don't want to loose you. Especially when I don't even know the real you."

Nagito was smiling. It was a blank smile, one that revealed nothing, but spoke volumes. He was sad. Hajime could always tell when his feelings changed, even when he kept up the happy persona. His whole demeanor would change, even if only slightly. Hajime reached his arm out, putting his hand on Nagito's shoulder before letting out a sob.

"You're the most important thing to me. I can't imagine losing you. I don't want to imagine it."

Nagito sighed, his mind obviously in a different place as he tried to keep up with the conversation.

He failed miserably, only able to reply, "Do you want my cookie? Sugary things always seem to boost my spirit."

He was wistful, in a way, like an old man on his deathbed that had already accepted his fate.

It was too early for Nagito to give up. Too soon. He had so much life he could live, even with the horrible life expectancy he was given.

Hajime wanted Nagito to live the life he had left to the fullest.

\---

Nagito let out a little hum, leaning into Hajime's back as he slept, arms around his waist and rested on his chest.

It was a domestic gesture that Hajime would learn to love, and miss.

\---

The morning was soft, the pinks and yellows of the surrounding flora a refreshing change in scenery from the almost apocalyptical oranges and reds of the past few days. When Hajime woke up, Nagito was once again, nowhere to be found. The apartment was a tangle of hallways and small, useless rooms, and he was almost beginning to feel ok with the routine of groggily throwing himself from room to room. 

"Hey, where are you? Everything's still so blurry and I'm _tired."_

He heard a small gasp, almost nonexistent, come from the kitchen, the last place he expected Nagito to be right now. He was, in fact, a self proclaimed 'disaster chef.' He continued, however breathily, however, with a simple, "Don't come in the kitchen right now, what I'm doing is a surprise!"

Hajime laughed, leaving him to it while he sat in the Living Room. There was a little window between the two rooms, the kitchen island a funny little freak of architecture. It was like this: the kitchen to the left, the living room to the right, all in one rectangle. In the middle of the two was a kitchen island, about two meters in length, one across. There was a wall through the middle of the island, with a sizable window in the middle. Hajime watched Nagito in the kitchen in ~~morbid~~ fascination, watching him sift through the kitchen like water in a stream. The oddest things seemed to be second nature to Nagito. Hajime had learned not to pry.

Whenever Nagito passed by the two full body openings to the room Hajime could swear he saw the other limping, babying his right leg as if it were sicker than he was. It worried him, but he brushed it off as just Nagito being Nagito. He tended to be more eccentric than most estranged billionaires, and it was a quality Hajime had learned to live with over the years. The black leather of the couch wasn't comfortable, but he leaned into it all the same, hoping that resting, truly resting, would heal his worries. This was not the right couch for that endeavor, but he tried all the same. He was a stubborn and persistent man to the very end. He would beat this couch one day, make it comfortable. He would bend the mountains and rivers to his stubborn wills, even if that will was trying to find comfort in a fucking leather couch when the weather was 100% humid. He would do it. He could.

He would bend the heavens and the earth if it meant that he could have saved everyone.

But he was going on a tangent now, his brain becoming more centered as he heard the trill of Nagito humming. Another calmer song choice, he picked up the tune almost instantly.

_Wasteland, Baby._

It was a soft, tender song, one that had always reminded him of Nagito. It was silly, but he had always hoped it reminded him of Hajime, too. It was probably just Nagito rubbing off on him, but he always felt selfish when hoping that Nagito thought of him as much as he thought of Nagito. They had lived that reality together. They fell in love as the world was ending, as the sun was dying, as the world was turning to a wasteland. 

Again, he was rambling inside of his mind. He really was prone to talking to himself, as was Nagito. They were weird, and had so much wrong with themselves, but they were leaning on each other, getting better with each passing day. That's what Hajime believed, at least.

Nagito began to limp out of the kitchen, taking in a sharp breath with each press of his leg to the tile. It was _definitely_ worrying Hajime, but he chose to ignore it for now. It was probably just a locked up muscle, or something he had done himself, and he refused to take the chance. 

"Surprise, Hajime."

So _that_ is what the loud pounding from the kitchen had been. Nagito had brought out a serving plate covered in kusamochi, their odd shape and slightly off color green trademark Nagito. It was the thought that counted though, Hajime grinning like an idiot as Nagito sat beside him. 

"I should be doing something like this for _you,_ you're the one that's sick and shouldn't be straining yourself-"

Nagito had put a finger on his lips.

"Shhhh. Just eat, I hope it isn't too repulsive for your tastes. I am, by my own admission, horrible at cooking."

"You're not repulsive. I'm surprised you remembered my favorite type of mochi and I guess I'm just-" He searched for the right word to continue with, "Touched, is all."

Nagito let out another one of his airy laughs, the sound filling up the room like a birdsong. It was nothing like how he would laugh and laugh under pressure. It was genuine, free, it was a laugh that fit him. One that Hajime could listen to all day. He quickly fell out of that thought, however, snapping back, "Hey, wait, why are you laughing? I just said that I was surprised that you-"

"I try to remember everything that you tell me."

It would be creepy if it was anyone but Nagito. Actually, Hajime couldn't decide if who was saying it actually made the statement _more_ creepy.

"Wait, I should explain before you think I'm a creeper- I never wanted to forget the sound of your voice. I've known about my dementia for a while now, you know. I never wanted to forget how you sounded, how you made me feel, up until my final moments. I would go over everything you said in my mind, just trying to savor the moment. Over, and over, and over."

"That... doesn't make me sound any less creepy, in hindsight. Pretend you never heard that."

Hajime was stunned, it was like the other boy had hit him with a phaser blast and asked him to forget it immediately after. He needed a moment to take in what he had just been told. He too ran it over and over in his mind, filtering the words like he was trying to process them from grapes to wine. Over, and over, and over. 

"I don't know what... what to say. You're not a creep, I understand what you're saying and why, it's just-" He stopped for a moment, deciding to give into indulgence. "I never knew you thought about me that way before after all that happened."

Nagito sat there in shock, a similar effect to what happened to Hajime just moments earlier.

"You didn't. _You didn't know?"_

Hajime was confused. Confused as hell. He had always thought these feelings had developed recently, that that's why Nagito suddenly acted more familiar, more domestic with him.

"Mahiru told me I was more obvious than a cat trying to hide a litter of kittens, in her own words."

Hajime was reminded that he couldn't read people for shit. He just thought that Nagito liked him as a friend. Looking back, he could see all the signs, all the little things that Nagito did to get closer to him, how stupid he was and how he left him in the moments he needed him there the most.

He stumbled over his words, stuttering in silence for a minute before he said, "I'm sorry I never realized sooner. To let you in on a little secret, if it brings you any comfort, I liked you since the moment you woke me up on the island. I thought it was just simple infatuation, but it... well, it stuck. Throughout everything. I thought you just wanted to be close friends, and so I never told you, and I never really acknowledged the feelings myself, just settling to be friends. I've loved you for a while, Nagito, I was just too afraid to admit it to myself, let alone you."

Nagito replied almost instantly, his breath a bit... shallower than usual. "It's an honor to know you've felt this way since the beginning. I don't deserve it, but it's comforting to know nonetheless." 

"Nagito, I'm not even going to address that comment about you not deserving my love, but I am going to address the fact that you are _obviously_ in pain. You can't hide that shit from me for long, you know."

Nagito took a long breath, letting it hitch as he keeled in towards his leg. He quickly shot out, "It's fine! It's nothing, I'll be fine by morning, this happens every now and then. Just growing pains."

Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose, putting the mochi he was chewing on down as he exasperatedly sighed, "Nagito you are twenty fucking three. You do not get growing pains, you are a full grown adult."

Nagito looked up, confusion in his eyes as he said, "That's... just what the doctors have always told me they were. I guess it's become more of an excuse now than anything, I'm sorry for bothering you with my issues and-"

Hajime had his hands on Nagito's cheeks now, maneuvering his face towards his. He placed his forehead up against his, careful to be gentle as he felt like the other boy could break like glass at the wrong touch. 

"You are not a bother. You are not a burden, you are the person I love, and you can tell me anything without having to fear my reaction. That's the environment I want for you, that's the one I hope I'm creating, and I want you to feel safe when you're around me. Safe to talk without fear of your luck, or worrying me, or whatever. Just _say what you want to say._ " 

Nagito shuddered a bit, falling into Hajime's arms. He didn't have the strength to keep on pretending to be ok, but he kept it up all the same. He was frail, delicate, a shell of what he once was. And yet he kept up the façade all the same.

All he could say was just,

"Thank you. Thank you, Hajime."

He didn't want to miss his chance to say it.

\---

That night, after Hajime had forced him to stay in bed for a couple hours, Nagito insisted on getting up to cook dinner. 'I'll make dinner in bed, like breakfast in bed but more interesting!'

Hajime was staying upstairs, indulging in what Nagito wanted for the night. What could a little self indulgence do to a man? There was the usual pans clattering, pots sizzling, and the smell of steak wafting up to the room. He nearly fell asleep to the noise, until he heard it. He heard a noise he hoped he would never have to hear.

There was a crash in the kitchen. A yelp, a horrible crashing noise, and a frantic phone call later, Hajime was sitting in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.

Nagito had fallen, and he wouldn't respond to anything Hajime could do. His head was bleeding like hell.

_He can't be dead, he won't be dead, he was still breathing, **he can't die on me yet,** not when we still had so much longer to go. _

_Please. Don't be dead, or in a coma, or any of that. I don't think I can handle waiting for you to wake up again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not to b self absorbed but with the thematic elements of this chapter i just REALLY like that this is the one that came up in my little preplanned list of chapter titles hehe  
> also i just want to say that the first episode of DS9 FUCKED WITH ME dude like YEAH i DO exist in those traumatic memories. i live through them and breathe through them and they guide my experiences. and i really hope i channeled how that mentally fucked me in this because like yeAH yE A H .  
> sorry this ones short its my little ~transitional chapter~ where we suddenly hit The Hospital like a brick


End file.
